


Fleeting Moments

by also_bughead



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, F/M, Sharing a Bed, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 22:53:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11701548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/also_bughead/pseuds/also_bughead
Summary: In which Jughead picks up his drunk ex-girlfriend





	Fleeting Moments

Jughead flopped down on his bed, patting Hot Dog’s head. He was very grateful that Mark and Ellen, his new foster parents, had allowed him to bring the little sheepdog when he came to live with them. Even though he’d only had the dog for a short while, it was nice to have some sort of familiarity in a new place. He fit right in, too, and got along real well with the couple’s two other dogs, Mac and Bandit.

It had been a long day, and Jughead was glad to finally be in bed. He knew though, that he probably wouldn’t sleep very well. He hadn’t slept well in nearly a month now. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Betty Cooper crying, _because of him_.

He must’ve drifted off, because when he opened his eyes again, the red digits on the alarm clock beside his bed read 2:30 AM, and he had laid down around midnight. He then realized what had woken him, as his ringtone continued to play.

He groaned, glancing down at his phone to check the ID before sliding to answer the call.

“Joaquin, it’s butt-fuck AM. There better be a good reason you’re calling me right now.”

“You need to come get your girlfriend, dude,” the young Serpent responded.

“Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Betty,” Jughead felt a twinge of pain in his chest at the mention of her name, her being referred to as his girlfriend.

Of course, Joaquin didn’t know that they’d broken up. How could he? He just got back into town after everything with Jason’s murder and the trial had settled down. He didn’t know, and if he did, he wouldn’t be calling Jughead, because he was probably the last person Betty would want rescuing her.

But, nonetheless, he would always be there if she needed him.

“Betty? What’s wrong?” Jughead asked, already sitting up and reaching for his shoes.

“Well, she came down to the old drive-in land with Toni, but Toni left a while ago and she’s pretty damn drunk,” _Betty Cooper, of all people, was drunk?_ “I’d offer to bring her home myself, but I haven’t got the wheels, and I can’t very well take her home in her car and then be stuck on the North Side.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jughead answered. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“I’d hurry if I were you,” Joaquin retorted, “I took her keys away from her, but she’s already nearly snuck them back from me twice.”

Jughead had finished tying his shoelaces by the time he’d hung up the phone. He stood, stretching as he slipped on his leather Serpents jacket and beanie. He grabbed his keys and phone and went outside, getting into the old pickup and revving the engine to life.

At first, Jughead was glad that his girlfriend had adjusted to his new lifestyle on the South Side, even going so far as to even befriend some of the younger Serpents, especially one of the members’ girlfriends, Toni. But, he wasn’t exactly thrilled that it had influenced her to do reckless things like this. It’s part of the reason why he’d broken things off with her just a few weeks ago. Being involved with this crowd, being involved with him, had turned her into someone she wasn’t. And Betty was so unequivocally good; he didn’t want to see the girl he loved become something so dark. It broke his heart, knowing he had hurt her. He kept trying to tell himself he’d done the right thing, but sometimes he wasn’t so sure that being apart was good for either of them.

It didn’t take him long at all to get to the land where the old drive-in used to be. Even though the drive-in wasn’t there anymore, it was still a favorite Serpent hang-out.

When he got out of his truck, there were whoops and hollers, “Hey, Jughead’s here,” “F.P.s kid,” “Jones’ boy.”

Jughead was new to the world of the Serpents, and while he didn’t partake in many of the darker parts of the gang’s workings, he still got on well with many of its younger members. And, he came with notoriety, merely because he was F.P.’s son. On top of not snitching on the Serpents, Jughead’s father was also high up on the gang’s totem pole of authority, making Jughead an almost automatic cred.

“You wanna beer, Jones?” Alex, a kid around his age, asks, throwing an arm around casually around Jughead’s shoulder.

“No, thanks though. I’m actually just here to pick up my girlfr- Betty. Have you seen her?”

“Ah, I see. She’s over by the fire with Joaquin.”

“Thanks,” Jughead patted Alex on the back before crossing over to where the fire burned in the middle of the property. It was kindled with various bits of trash and people had thrown in their empty beer bottles and cans.

He scanned the various people sitting around the fire before his eyes landed on the Betty. She was sitting on a log talking to Joaquin, eyes wide and expressions and hand movements exaggerated by the alcohol in her system. She looked as beautiful as ever in the dim light of the fire. Her hair was out of its usual ponytail, and flowed in its soft waves to the tops of her shoulders. While he understood why she kept it in a ponytail most of the time, he’d always loved when she wore her hair down.

As Jughead got closer, he saw the plastic red cup in her hand. He furrowed his eyebrows, and Joaquin must’ve noticed, because he threw his hands up in surrender.

“It’s just water, I swear,” the boy chuckled. “I cut her off almost an hour ago.”

“Juggiiiieee,” the blonde cooed, jumping up toward him, but tripping on the way so that he had to catch her.

“Hey, Betts,” Jughead grunted as her weight fell into him, “how much did she have?”

Joaquin shrugged, tossing Jughead a set of keys he could only assume were Betty’s. “I don’t know. But by the way she’s acting, I wouldn’t be surprised if she drank a whole six-pack. Plus, I know she and Toni took some shots of Fireball earlier.”

“Great,” Jughead sighed begrudgingly.

“I’m n-not even t-that drunk, Jug,” she whined.

“Yeah, okay,” he steadied her upright, placing a hand on her back for support. “Thanks for calling me, Joaquin.”

“No worries,” Joaquin chuckled, “night Betty.”

“Goodnight, Joaquin,” Betty smiled in the same friendly way she always does. Whether she’s drunk or sober, Betty was still the sweetest person Jughead knew.

“Come on,” Jughead started to gently guide the girl back toward his truck, but it was very slow moving, as Betty drunkenly stumbled along the way.

When they got to the parking lot, Betty turned on her heel, holding a hand out expectantly.

Jughead raised his eyebrows. “What do you think you’re getting?”

“My keys.” She simply stated.

The dark-haired boy laughed aloud. “Yeah, not about to happen,” he moved past her, opening the passenger door to his truck. “Get in.”

“Jughead Jones, give me my damn keys!” the blonde scolded.

“No, _Betty Cooper_ ,” he retorted, copying her condescending tone.

“Why the hell not?” she argued.

“Because I’m not about to let you drive drunk.”

“What do you care?”

Jughead let out an exasperated sigh. “Betty, get in this truck or so help me God.”

Betty crossed her arms, pursing her lips into a pout. Jughead moved and placed a hand on her waist, ready to hoist over his shoulder, but she wriggled, managing to free herself from his grip. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she yelled, her arms uncrossing in defeat. “I’m going.”

He stepped out of her way, but stayed close behind, ready to catch her as she climbed into the truck unsteadily, sitting back against the worn leather seat. Jughead closed the door and went around the front of the truck and got in the driver’s side, buckling his seatbelt. He turned to see Betty struggling with her buckle, her intoxication hindering her ability to coordinate.

“Betts?” he murmured and she looked up at him.

His blue eyes were soft, and even though she was nowhere near herself, she felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach that were always around when he was. She relented, sitting back and allowing him to buckle her in. Her breathing hitched when his cool fingers grazed along the bare skin of her side as he clicked her seat belt into place.

“I can’t go home like this,” she whispered, “my mom would kill me.”

Jughead turned the key in the ignition. “We can go to my dad’s trailer.”

She nodded, keeping her eyes trained out the window the whole ride there. It wasn’t very long of a drive to Sunnyside Trailer Park, where Jughead and his father used to live prior to F.P.’s incarceration. It was unclear what would happen to their mobile home now that no one was there to live in it or pay rent to keep it in the park. But for now, it was technically still the Jones’.

Jughead threw the car in park and got out, going to the other side to get Betty, who was already struggling to get out of the truck without falling.

“C’mere,” the raven-haired boy wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her slightly so that she could maneuver her legs, before carefully placing her back on the ground. He picked her up again however, when she stumbled, nearly toppling both of them over.

He placed one arm about her waist and the other under her knees, carrying her bridal style to the trailer. Figuring out how to unlock the door while holding her was awkward, to say the least, but Jughead managed, and used his hip to push the door open. He carried her down the short hallway into his bedroom, laying her down gently on the bed. He carefully untied her shoelaces and slipped her converse from her feet.

“Do you want a shirt or something?” Thankfully, Jughead hadn’t yet completely moved everything to his new home.

Betty nodded weakly in response, her eyes already heavy with booze and sleep deprivation. He knew she probably wasn’t getting much sleep at night either.

Jughead rummaged around in his unkempt drawers before he found a grey sweatshirt. He tossed it to her. “I’m gonna let you change,” he mumbled before leaving the room, going into the trailer’s kitchen. He grabbed a glass out of the small cabinet, turning on the faucet and filling it with water.

He then made his way back to his bedroom, opening the door to find Betty curled up on his bed, her clothes folded as best she could manage and stacked in a little pile beside where he’d placed her shoes.

His sweatshirt was big on Betty, coming down to nearly her midthigh. He licked his lips at the sight of her long, bare legs as they shone almost iridescent in the moonlight, but he quickly pushed the thought away. She wasn’t in her right mind, and he was not about to initiate something she might not feel one hundred percent okay with when she woke up tomorrow.

“I got you some water,” he croaked out, his throat suddenly dryer than it was before. She let out a little whine, and he sat down next to her on the bed. “C’mon. You’ll thank me tomorrow, I promise.”

She propped herself up on one elbow, and he helped her hold the glass steady while she took a few sips from it, before laying back down. He drank the rest in an effort to push down the lump that had formed in his throat.

“If you need me, I’ll be on the couch,” he started to get up, but she caught his arm.

“Stay,” her plea was small, almost like a child who needed comforting.

 “Okay.”

Jughead tossed his beanie to the side and took off his shoes and Serpents jacket before he pulled back the duvet, lying down beside her and pulling the covers up around them. She shifted so her head rested on his chest and he wrapped his arm around her, his fingers gently playing the ends of her hair.

Betty sighed, nuzzling into him, and she could feel his heartbeat, even through the material of his sweater. She absently traced the patterns on the grey material, sighing as she nuzzled into him. It all felt so _right_.

“I miss this, Juggie. I’ve missed you.” Betty murmured into the darkness that allowed her to be brave.

“I miss you, too,” he whispered into her hair. He drew in a deep, calming breath, taking in her vanilla scent.

He knew this moment wouldn’t last forever. In the morning, they would be forced to return to reality. She’d probably go home. He’d go back to his foster family’s house. They’d still be broken up.

Or _maybe_ they’d finally realize that they were no good without each other.

But either way, this moment was fleeting. Which made Jughead want to cling to it even more.

Breaths slowed and evened, eyes fluttered closed as they laid there, tangled up in each other. It was probably the best either one of them slept in a long time.


End file.
